On the last episode, Stella, Mick and their two friends had arrived at Sheila’s house on the mountain, taking Millie with them. Mick had finally succeeded pushing the front door open by a few inches.
What was behind the door that reeked of old paper and mold?
Stella peers in as Millie struggles to look in, yelling out at her friend Sheila, the recluse. Stella eyes stacks of old newspapers, some as high as the ceiling. She stares in horror as she sees something scurry past one of the stacks and notes old plates, filled with mold. The scent of decay and something that had been spoiling for months assailed her nostrils. She backs away.
“Something isn’t right.” Millie says, eyes wide. “Help me.”
Josh and John elbow their way past Millie and study the door as one peers into a window. Millie leans on the door, listening as Mick presses his ears onto the wall.
“Sheila? We’re going in if you don’t answer. Hello? Hello? Millie yells.
Stella follows John to a window and they peer in. An upended lamp lay on the floor, littered with candy wrappers, several pieces of broken crockery and dirty clothing. All around the small floor, more stacks of newsprint, magazines and old catalogs. The room appears dark as the stacks of paper barred light from entering, save for the window they were peering through. Stella guessed it was Sheila’s way of looking out to check who was at her door as it was near the front of the house where the path and dirt drive led to the front of the small house.
“Should we try to pry it open?” Mick queried. Millie nodded.
“I don’t know what else to do.”
“Can you call her on a phone?”
Millie shook her head.
At Mick’s signal, the three men shoved the door wider. As Stella stood behind them, she noted the door had been prevented from opening by stack upon stack of more papers. Mail, ads and more correspondence cascaded down towards the opening as the three men pushed.
“Sheila! We’re coming through!” Millie yelled.
“Is she usually this quiet?” Stella asked, afraid of the woman’s reply.
“Yes.”
Finally, the door was wide enough for the men to enter. Josh entered first, followed by John and then Stella, Millie and Mick at the rear. A sense of foreboding and heaviness accompanied their entrance. Stella felt her skin prickle as the silence and the scent of decay of mildew filled her senses.
“Gosh, she’s abandoned the place.” John commented.
“I don’t think so. Where would she go?” Millie said.
Stella stepped over silverware, still dirty from use, food particles all over the floor. “She hasn’t been here in a while.” She notes from the dry food caked around a plate on the floor.
“That’s just the way she is, so…” Millie comments about her friend.
“Gross.” Josh comments as he sees mice scurry by the open kitchen. “At least we can see the floor there.”
Stella glances a look, following Josh’s line of sight. “Let’s go there… check.”
“Sheila? Sheila?” Millie yells.
No reply.
“She’s hurt.” Millie exclaims.
Stella leads the way into the kitchen as the men push back the detritus off the floor in heaps. Some held up a handkerchief. They spot the kitchen sink and the men collectively almost lunge for it, desperate to wash their hands.
Mick approaches and sees the sink is filled with dirty cups, dishes and other saucepans, still with food in stages of spoilage. “Gosh, it stinks. Sorry.” Mick reaches for the faucet and searches for a piece of soap. Water gushes out. The smell of rust and dirty water. Despite it, he sudses his hands and the two men reach over to share the sink.
Stella surveys the room and spots an open closet. She gingerly approaches. It was a walk-in pantry of sorts. The shelves had fallen in.
Under one of the shelves, she sees slippers attached to a pair of legs, then a torso in a housedress. Millie had followed behind her. The woman screams.
They had found Sheila. The shelves, overfilled with canned goods and sacks of flour, sugar and other assortments of baking had fallen in, hitting the woman on the head. Where her head would be, a pool of blood had leached into the sacks of baking goods and onto the cement floor of the pantry.
Millie, too upset to approach her friend, sobbed as Stella pulled her away. Mick checked his cellphone. He had no service. Josh and John checked theirs and there was not a single bar. “We have to get off the mountain and call someone.” Mick stated.
“Should we get her out, just in case she’s still…” Stella asked.
“No, she’s dead. You can see…” Millie said in despair.
Mick approached the body, surveying the state of the shelves, fearful it may fall headlong towards them. He stands. “Let’s see what we can move…”
Slowly, the men took off cans, bags, and other foodstuffs. The woman’s body began to emerge. Then a scent that reminded them of grapes, ripe grapes, became pronounced in the room.
“You smell that?”
“Blood. It’s her blood. It’s all over the floor.”
Stella gingerly touched a foot. She felt for a pulse on the woman’s ankle. “She’s alive!”
STAY TUNED for the THIRD and FINAL terrifying conclusion in two weeks.
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